98vcr

Victoria is pretty much an ideal place to travel with one's grandmother. Or so says this granddaughter. It's small, boasts a beautiful harbor, and pretty flower boxes dangle from every European style lamppost lining its quaint streets. Its two most famous attractions are high tea at the deluxe Fairmont Empress Hotel and a world-class garden. What screams "fun with grandma" more than cucumber sandwiches and smelling 35 varieties of roses?

We began the morning in search of a breakfast slightly cheaper than the 20 dollar eggs and coffee offered at our hotel. Fortunately, the porter tipped us off to the place he and his wife love most--Willie's Bakery and Cafe, which was the kind of place that I would turn into my local coffee hangout if I lived within walking distance. The breakfast was delicious, we appeared to be the only guidebook toting tourists, and I could tell we had stumbled upon the one street in Victoria that has true local character (Johnson street for any future Victoria island visitors.)

And then we were off to Butchart Gardens, where we were greeted by tourbuses (our British Doubledecker Bus #248 included) and turnstyles. But it was beautiful and grandma and I especially loved the two incredibly tall totem poles recently installed in the gardens. We decided to start keeping a totem pole tally (okay, I decided but grandma was game.) But high tea...oh, high tea! I love flowers, but fresh strawberries with devon cream and lemon tarts? Grandma and I made it through all three tiers of our sandwich and dessert filled plate with impressive gusto. And I think we went through at least 8 cups of delicious tea apiece. I'm a coffee snob but had no idea that teas come in such a range too. Dammit...better not to know these things. Ah well. Those scones were worth it.

After stuffing ourselves, we set off to the Royal BC museum across the street. The museum's First Nations Gallery was definitely a highlight of our day. The interpretive labels seemed like they had been installed in the 70s and could use some revamping ("this is a beaver over a killer whale over a frog" isn't exactly revelatory) but the masks and gallery filled with totem poles were breathtaking.

What a full day!

Totem Pole tally: 27

Today has been a marvelous day. When I jogged past a great horned owl this morning, I should have realized immediately that it was an omen.

After two lovely nights in Victoria, I couldn't wait to pick up our rental car and drive into the countryside of Victoria Island. Grandma and I got on the road after a lazy morning, picking up grilled vegetables and a big salad at this hipster cafe in town where grandma was bowled over by the preponderance of bare midriffs (she couldn't stop talking about it at dinner and is convinced boys have gotten into the act. I think she’s referring to the exposed boxers phenomenon.) You can guess what her opinions are on the matter. But in less than an hour, we went from bare midriffs, totem poles, and high tea to pristine beaches, windy backroads, and low tides. Thelma (the great woman we met at dinner) tipped us off to walk in East Sooke Park....if anyone ever gets the chance to go, its a must. Someday I would love to do the seven-hour coastal hike. The picnic above the beach and 30 minutes of the trail that grandma and I enjoyed were absolutely spectacular.

It was 5 or so when we got back on the road. We only had about 15 minutes left before reaching our "house", but a blue sign with the letter “A” and “native artisan” sign off the side of the road led to an abrupt left hand turn that turned out to be a great stroke of serendipity. I knew Grandma would tolerate a short goose chase (with me as a granddaughter, she’s been tolerating them for years!) Fortunately, within a few minutes, we saw a really cool sign for "The Blue Raven Gallery" and turned into a driveway that seemed more likely to lead to a chicken coop than what we found. When I saw the garage doors painted in incredible designs, I felt that unmistakable rush of travel giddiness that comes from unexpected discovery... And when I noticed a huge totem pole in progress on the side of the house, I ran back to the car and made grandma get out. A handsome guy who looked 30 and like he could be my future neighbor in Brooklyn came out of the house and introduced himself as the artist Carey Newman. (http://www.blueraven.ca/) As I asked him about the poles he was creating (one commissioned for the hotel we were about to reach, the other for a German collector), I realized that he was part of one of the most celebrated and famous families of First Nations artists. (This realization came after he mentioned that he got interested in totem poles when he was 12, and that his father, Victor, made them. I asked if any women made totem poles, and he mentioned that his great-aunt Ellen Neel had.) A little mental lightning bolt struck. Ellen Neel appears in every basic book on totem poles (I now have a mini totem pole library) and is considered a pivotal figure in helping to bring about their renaissance, and the first major woman carver that I know of. Grandma and I later saw one of her totem poles in Stanley Park. Carey invited us inside to his gallery, which included mostly his own work, and quite a bit by his father. We really didn't need to know his background to figure out that we had stumbled upon something great. We were wowed. And Carey went back to work--nothing like a totem pole raising ceremony attended by Europeans for a deadline!

We dragged ourselves away reluctantly, wishing that we could fit 20 foot masks worn in ritual ceremonies into our carry-on luggage, or that we had thousands of dollars to commission a totem pole. Our first glimpse of the Sooke Harbour House helped stave off the pain. I knew it would be a little jewel of a place. I had no idea, however, that it was purported to have the best restaurant in all of Canada and that it would be perched over the Pacific with rooms opening out to the Olympic mountains, smells from the garden below, a sandy spit stretching out from below our bedroom deck, a fireplace in the room, and enough art to start their own museum. (http://www.sookeharbourhouse.com) Grandma and I quickly agreed that it was the prettiest place we have ever stayed (and she’s logged 60 years worth of pretty hotel rooms.) In fact, judging from the comment book in our room, we are the first pair to stay in the room that wasn’t married on the premises, there for a honeymoon, or celebrating an anniversary. I should have known how pretty the place would be when I asked for a dinner reservation and they suggested that it would be most economical if Grandma and I signed up for "the romance package."

After taking a walk on the Whiffen Spit that curls out from the property, we headed downstairs for our dinner reservation. I naively assumed that 3 years of attending farmer’s markets in Santa Barbara had turned me into an expert on rare purple vegetables and little-known legumes. But this menu humbled me. Had any geoduck lately? What about day lily flower oil (in our yummy shellfish broth soup)? Loganberry sorbet? Prophyra seaweed gnocchi? Epazote root vegetable salsa? All way more delicious than they sound. At 84 years old, Grandma tried tofu and octopus for the first time--she’s definitely a Midwestern girl at heart. Best of all, she loved them both. The chef specializes in using local, seasonal ingredients…our salad came with a rainbow-hued assortment of edible petals from the garden. It was divine. As grandma pointed out, one of the best things about the meal is that it was 4 courses but didn’t leave either of us feeling overstuffed. And since we have gotten back, grandma has told absolutely everyone about our gastronomical adventure at Sooke and how we ate at the “7th best restaurant in North America” and stayed at one of the top ten hotels in the world. A place that is good enough for Mikhail Baryshnikov (which we learned from photos outside the bathroom) is good enough for grandma and me.

We crawled into our beds, left all the windows open, and feel asleep to the sound of the waves. Heaven!

Totem pole tally: 29 and counting...

The first installment...
As many of you know, my grandmother and I took a very spontaneous and special trip to Death Valley last spring to catch the once-in-a-lifetime wildflower bloom. The trip was so much fun, I cajoled her into traveling with me again, only this time for an entire week and in a foreign country. We were initially thinking Morocco but being the Bay Area grandma that she is, grandma pointed out that it would be pretty hot there. So Vancouver it was, a place I am surprised she has never been and that has been on my list as well.

The first noteworthy thing Grandma and I saw when we got off the plane were two stunning red, white, and black First Nation weavings draped over the escalator as we descended to customs. The second noteworthy sighting was Corbin Bernsen in our custom's line (of LA Law fame, if anyone else stayed up late in the 80s to watch this riveting soap opera.) Well, they say that Vancouver is 2nd to LA in terms of movies and commercials shot. I believe it. At the very least, having him snaking past us in line every few minutes did help the time fly. I kept trying to sneak a peek at his luggage tag to see where he lives.

But grandma didn't watch LA Law so was much more excited once we made it out of the airport and onto the "Spirit of British Columbia" ferry over to Victoria. It was a sparkling water, sunny day on the Strait of Georgia and we marveled over all the beautiful Gulf Islands we passed en route to Vancouver Island, the Mamma Island. I met a fascinating man who worked on the ferry but is originally from Poland and was part of the Solidarity Movement. (He ended up in Canada to avoid being sent to prison.) We talked about everything from Lech Walesa to our mutual fondness for Lazienki Park in Warsaw, with its peacocks and free Chopin concerts in the summer. After speaking with him, I went outside to bask in the sun with grandma and caught a glimpse of a bald eagle in a tree when we went through a narrow passage. That was enough to get me excited about our destination.

Although my grandmother can be very frugal and recycles Christmas bows long after their stick is gone, she suggested that we do the trip in style. She hinted that the famed Fairmont Empress Hotel in Victoria might be a nice place to stay. The room we stayed in was fairly unexciting but our arrival more than made up for it. We might as well have pulled up in a horsedrawn carraige, the place was so fairytale-like. Picture a chateau style hotel with gorgeous hanging plants lining its driveway --Victoria has over a thousand elegant lampposts with hanging flowerboxes filled with 9 different kinds of flowers. (Yes, I paid attention to my doubledecker bus tourguide.) But the best part of all is that the hotel is right across the street from the serene harbor. I'm pretty sure we both gasped audibly.

After spending practically the whole day in transit (ironically, our 2 hour flight seems like one of the shorter legs of our trip!) grandma and I decided to head to Pagliacci, a local Italian restaurant I read about in my "Hidden British Columbia" book. (Every porter recommended it as well, clinching the deal.) The place was perfect--unpretentious, full of character, busy but no wait. Dinner was delicious and I got to ask grandma a million questions about her high school boyfriend (who tragically was named Bob). Apparently her parents really disapproved that he was Roman Catholic since a Catholic boy had broken her aunt's heart.

A mother eating with her daughter at the table next to us overheard me telling grandma our itinerary for the next few days and asked me how I had heard of Sooke (a small town just outside Victoria that we are staying in for a night.) Apparently as a Victoria native, this is her favorite place in the world. We continued chatting about travel and it turns out that she owns an adventure travel company and was about to head to Egypt. Not surprisingly, we hit it off. Who wouldn't hit it off with someone as cool as Thelma? What was surprising was what happened after we all left the restaurant at the same time. Thelma and her daughter Vanessa were about half a block ahead of us when they turned around and offered to drive me and grandma around Victoria to show us their hometown. Grandma was tickled pink. The next thing I know, we were in the backseat of their car driving down a beautiful road in Oak Bay, one of the nicest neighborhoods in Victoria, admiring Washington's snow-capped Olympic Mountains in the distance. We concluded our drive with a quick spin through the UBC campus where Vanessa (the daughter) is studying linguistics. Grandma and I could not get over how many bunnies we saw. They definitely outnumber the students--at least in the summertime.

It was a great evening. Thelma and Vanessa were wonderful guides, we saw Victoria at that beautiful time of night just before the sun is setting, and we learned some great local trivia--for example, how overly PC British Columbia is (the UBC mascot was the Vikings but for fear of offending Norweigans, they are now "the Vikes.") And we learned that the Gulf Islands we passed on our ferry ride are really part of the same chain as Washington's San Juans. And that Salt Spring Island (one of the biggest ones) used to be a hippie haven but now has a few very tony residents like Barbara Streisand and John Travolta. We also could see how much both Thelma and Vanessa love their hometown, and love the First Nations art that makes it particularly special (Vanessa volunteered at the Royal BC Museum in town and was happy to hear that we were not going to miss it.)

We went to bed excited about what our first full day has in store. Speaking of which, I am zonked. More soon!